


The Whispering Room Alternative POV

by ohlovelyx



Category: The Infernal Devices Series - Cassandra Clare, The Last Hours Series - Cassandra Clare, The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:02:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27343195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohlovelyx/pseuds/ohlovelyx
Summary: the beloved whispering room scene but in James' point of view
Relationships: Cordelia Carstairs/James Herondale
Comments: 2
Kudos: 52





	The Whispering Room Alternative POV

"What do you think Charles is doing here?" Cordelia asked. 

James found himself mindlessly staring at books, for his thoughts kept dragging themselves back to Cordelia's dance. He'd never seen anyone dance as she had, and he had never expected Daisy to be the one to do so if he'd had. He asked "Where did you learn to dance like that?" 

Cordelia seemed shocked, and James briefly wondered if it had been wrong to ask. He didn't care. Just looking at her made him more curious, and he could remember the way she moved. He hadn't been able to look away. 

"I had a dance instructor in Paris," She said. "My mother believed that learning to dance aided to learning grace in battle." 

James himself would agree. It was one thing to be a weapon, a sport, but to fight as art required the sort of thinking that only dance could provide. 

"That dance," Daisy began "was forbidden to be taught to unmarried ladies, but my dance instructor did not care." 

James thought about the bravery it had taken for her to get up there and perform it. He noticed how still she seemed like she was nervous or coming off of a high, so he said "Well, thank the Angel you were there," he paused for affect. "Matthew and I could certainly not have pulled off that dance on our own." He felt rewarded when she smiled as if to herself. He felt like he was looking in on something private, like he had to memorize it or he'd never see it again. Even as her hand began to trace along items on the desk. It almost made him shiver, but his thoughts stopped when he realized her fingers were heading to a golden bowl. 

"Be careful," He told her. "I suspect that is faerie fruit. It has no effect on warlocks--no magical effect, at least." Reciting the words seemed to bring him back to the moment, and he added "But on humans..." 

Her hands pulled away from their tracing, and she said "Surely it does not harm you if you do not eat it." 

He looked back down at the fruit for a moment, and then back up at her as he said "Oh, it does not. But I have met those who have tasted it. They say the more you have of it, the more you want," James swore to himself even as he continued the metaphor for what he feeling in that moment. "And the more you ache when you can have no more. And yet...I have always thought--" She was looking at him like she had no idea what he was saying. Could she not feel it? Did it not bother her so? "Is not knowing what it tastes like just another form of torture? The torture of wondering?" 

James wondered as she danced, as she smiled, as she stood there in front of him in that moment. He had never known want like this, and it felt as if it was eating him alive, but if he were to feed into the wondering, what would the consequences be? In what world would the consequences be greater than the ache in his chest from this wonder? 

As if she knew, she blushed, and the door handle jiggled. One second, one idea was all it took for James to silence Cordelia as she said "We're not meant to be in here-" 

He pulled her against him, and he found their bodies fit together. He brought her lips to his own, and he wanted her closer. Daisy, Daisy, Daisy, his mind whispered. She was as close as she would get with all of their clothes, and he was on fire especially as she gasped into James's mouth. He could feel his heartbeat all over, and he wrapped his hand around her cheek into her hair. Her skin was so soft against his hand. 

He thought he knew what dying felt like. When she'd been with him, and he'd been delirious but she'd always been there. He thought that that was dying, but this was dying. He was falling and dying in her, and yet he was so very alive. It was as if every feeling he'd ever experienced had been cloaked with a constant gray, but she was color. She was red and gold and light. Her arms wrapped around his neck, and she brought herself closer. It had been like breathing after years of drowning, his mind blanked and all he could feel was relief. He found himself hissing from the pleasure of it. 

And then she opened her mouth, and any barrier that had held James back fell. All thoughts of consequences be damned. Not the laughter by the door could stop him as he deepened the kiss. He wanted to hear her gasp again, so he traced her lips and she whispered "Oh," The people left, and he knew now would be the time to end the kiss. He pulled away just at the lips and caught his breath. He could play this off as a plan, but he didn't want that. He wanted Cordelia, and she wasn't pulling away. No, she was tracing the Herondale scar and breathing just as heavily as he was. 

"Daisy... my Daisy..." He found himself saying. He didn't know if he was pleading with her to kiss him or push him away, but he needed her to say something. He didn't know what to do. 

She whispered "I think more people are coming." 

James found all the answer he needed in the statement and pulled her back against him. He'd been too eager and her heel caught on the rug, but she pushed off both. With every action he was on fire because she needed this just as much as he did, and he wanted this to last forever. He teased her, and kissed over her lips and made his way to her throat. He untied Cortana so no one would get hurt, and traced her bodice. It was silky and easy to skim over, and her chest fell up and down fast. 

Her head fell back, and James continued kissing her throat. His heart pounded and he thought that if this was faerie fruit, he was going to die when he was without it. Wondering had been painful, but this would be worse. He pushed those thoughts away and laid Cortana behind them. He held her closer, and moved them to the desk. James didn't want to think so much anymore, he just wanted to feel this for the rest of his life. 

The way her body curved into his so perfectly, how her curves fit in his hands so well. Her gasps to his ministrations. 

He wanted to see how she would gasp without so many layers in the way, so he hooked his fingers in the neckline of her dress, and she shivered. 

James found himself pulling back to look at her face and memorize it. He shrugged off his coat and returned to her, lifting her onto the desk. She wrapped her legs around him and he felt as if he found a treasure that had been before him all this time. He cradled her face, and wanted to stay in this moment forever. She was flame and he was a moth, stupidly going through life in the dark and he would dive head first into her beauty the moment he realized it. He was recognizing it now. He saw her in a different light, except it was darker here and she was the only thing he cared about. 

She fell back into the desk, and he followed her. Her eyes darkened, and he knew she felt it too. The fire. He felt it consuming him as he hands traced his chest the way it had traced the items from before. He felt it somewhere else as she wrapped her fingers in his hair. He kissed her chest, and-- 

The door opened. Light cast upon both of them, washing them in the knowledge of their lives and obligations. 

James seized up, grabbing his coat as he recognized Matthew. He handed it to Daisy, and she looked disappointed. 

"James," Matthew said, clearly in shock. James thought if their roles were reversed, he would be shocked too. He hadn't known he himself wanted Cordelia as their position had clearly implied. 

"We're not meant to be in here," Cordelia defended. "James thought that if we pretended--I mean, if someone came in and thought--" 

"I understand" 

James felt guilty, and he didn't know if it was because Matthew walked in or because of what he had felt for Cordelia in those moments. He thought maybe because of Matthew, Matthew wouldn't stop staring at him. He wondered why Matthew was this shocked, or was that betrayal in his expression? He would have to figure it out later, but standing here would gather attention so he said "Is Charles still here?"

James had run from his feelings for a long time, gone numb for half as long so he pulled on that mask, and hoped that it still fit without the constant reminder of Grace Blackthorn on his wrist.


End file.
